


It's All Fun And Games Until Someone Gets Hurt

by DustySoul



Series: DustySoul's Hamilton College AUs [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Consent, Consent Issues, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M, Making Out, Non-Consensual Kissing, Platonic Kissing, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rough Kissing, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5290430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How does hamilton, an arrogant immigrant, orphan, bastard, whoreson, somehow kiss thomas jefferson, his enemy, a man he’s despised since the beginning, instead of kissing <i><b>me?!</b></i>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fun And Games

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for: Au with dumb teenagers playing spin the bottle “slightly” drunk. Ham spins and it lands between burr and Jefferson, so ham gets to chose. He chooses Jefferson and burr is uncharacteristically opinionated and pouty on his not-choosing-him. Bonus if it ends with ham and burr angrily making out. The stupider the drunken shenanigans the better.
> 
> http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com/post/133994259446/au-with-dumb-teenagers-playing-spin-the-bottle#notes
> 
> Thanks to CaptainLucifer for the new summary and to saffron612 for the spelling and grammar check as well as the great discussion about characterization, consent, and plot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I get to show of my (hopefully) considerable skill writing kisses.  
> And someone gets bit.

“Whose bright idea was this again?” Madison drawls as Burr sets an empty wine bottle in the middle of the circle. The truth is, no one actually knows. It all happened so fast and almost ended in blows - of the fisticuff kind.

Hamilton was extremely vocal in his opinion that they should play “Truth or Dare.” Everyone else was clinging on to just enough sobriety to know that that was a  _terrible_ idea. So here they are, sitting pretzel style in some frat house basement, playing Spin the Bottle instead.

 

“There’s not enough girls,” Jefferson complains. A fifty-fifty ratio probably wouldn’t be enough girls for Jefferson. Admittedly no one else noticed that there were  _no_ girls. Period. The Schuyler sisters, who all promised to play, are sitting in a circle of their own, this time round a table. “Get started without us!” they had said. They are not subtle about watching the proceedings.

Everyone ignores Jefferson.

“Who’ll start?” Burr asks.

Hamilton reaches out to spin the bottle. Because of course he does.

It clatters against the floor as it turns, coming to land on John Laurens. Their kiss is tender, almost too chaste to count. No one wants to call them out on it. Until Hamilton leans closer in and the peck turns into a gentle give and take that definitely breaks the "one kiss" rule. It goes one for several minutes. Someone giggles on the other side of the room.

Burr clears his throat. They pull apart.

Laurens spins.

It lands on Lafayette, who’s seated on the other side of the circle. John walks over. He sits crosslegged in front of his friend, their knees touching. They trade kisses on the cheek before pressing in for something more firm. Lafayette reaches for Laurens, placing his hand on the other’s cheek. After pulling apart John lingers in Lafayette’s space, breathing his breath. Silently, Laurens returns to his spot next to Hamilton.

Lafayette spins. It lands of Mulligan.

And that… definitely counts as a kiss. Jefferson shifts, perhaps wishing that he didn’t put up so much of a fight against Truth or Dare.

The bottle lands on Madison next. Madison does not flinch as Mulligan bounds over to him and plants a just as intense kiss against his lips. Burr can tell that Madison is stiff and frozen as Mulligan sucks on his bottom lip. Which is really quite a waste.

Madison’s spin lands on Jefferson.

Mulligan boos at their half assed peck.

Another angry debate breaks out, calmed when Burr offers a compromise. It seems ridiculous but it works. Madison and Jefferson touch the tips of their tongues together. Not a real kiss, but it no longer feels like they're cheating the spirit of Spin the Bottle.

A rather uneventful series of spins follows. Jefferson to Burr, Burr to Lafayette, and Lafayette back to Hamilton.

“I hope none of you have a cold.”

“I guess we’ll find out in a few days.”

The bottle spins and spins because Hamilton has never learned to do anything without a certain amount of flare.

When it finally lands it’s half way between Burr and Jefferson, not clearly pointing more toward one than the other. There are several seconds of silence.

“Clearly.” Hamilton says, “This means I should kiss both of you.”

“No!” Jefferson bellows.

“But then who would spin next? They can’t both spin next.” Laurens says, the voice of reason.

“Pick.” Burr says.

Confusion creases Hamilton’s brow. 

“Pick or spin again.”

Hamilton rises, stepping over the bottle to get to the other side of the circle.

Burr’s heart is pounding. So is Jefferson's, but it’s for an entirely different reason. He stands between them, right where the bottle is pointing before finally making up his mind.

He plops himself in Jefferson’s lap. Jefferson yelps and tries to throw him off but Hamilton holds fast. He grabs the back of Jefferson’s head with a grip that must leave bruises and pulls him in for one of the dirtiest kisses of the night. Hamilton doesn't warm his partner up to his use of tongue. He just runs it across Jefferson's bottom lip and plunges in when the other starts in surprise.

Lafayette whoops and Mulligan wolf whistles. 

After a few moments Hamilton and Jefferson get into a fight--by the rules the kiss ends once their lips are no longer in contact and Jefferson, it seems has reached his limit. The aftermath of the scuffle leaves Hamilton with a bump blooming on his scalp and gives Jefferson a cut on the inside of his lower lip thanks to Hamilton’s teeth.

There’s a roaring in Burr’s ears. He feels hot and cold all at once. 

“I think this game is over.” Jefferson says, disgusted. He spits blood at Hamilton. Mostly it lands across the bottle and the hard wood floor.

They disperse. It takes a moment before Burr is spurred into action. He catches up to Hamilton, who has split off from the group to put ice on his head. Burr corners him against a wall.

“The hell was that about?” he spits.

“Fun and games, Burr. What? Are you seriously on Jefferson’s side now? Come on.” He tries to shove Burr away. “Fine!” he yells when he finds he’s unable to. “It was dumb and immature? You happy?”

Burr still doesn’t let him go.

“What?” When Hamilton shoves his chest Burr finally steps back. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

They share a long look, Hamilton is, as ever, fiery with his own misplaced passion. Burr, in turn, feels a cold rage running through his veins. He lunges back at Hamilton, crashing their lips together.

He expects Hamilton to react like Jefferson, to try to push him off, maybe even to hit him. It’s dumb. He’s drunk. He’s angry.

But Hamilton doesn’t try to push him off. Instead he pulls Burr closer, opening his mouth in a frantic huff and welcoming Burr to push against him - push him against the wall.

It’s more than one kiss.

By the time Burr has cooled down enough that his actions, and their consequences, catch up to him Hamilton’s legs are around his waist and Burr’s lips and _teeth_  are against Hamilton’s throat.

He lets Hamilton down and they enter another staring contest. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t pick you.” Hamilton says, stepping forward to kiss the corner of Burr’s mouth.

He walks off to put that ice on his head, further abused from where it had collided with the wall. Burr, in his turn, returns to the basement where Jefferson is fuming, tissues stuffed between his teeth and lip, trying to stop the bleeding.

“That bastard.” Madison swears, “I hope you clocked him one, Burr.”

 


	2. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some characters fume and other's decompress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to saffron612 for poking more out of me.  
> 

Burr, Jefferson, and Madison stumble back to their dorm together. Once back on campus, Burr sends his friends ahead, gut suddenly churning. When they’re out of sight he goes and throws up in the bushes. He really isn't even that drunk, he barely even has the spins. He spits several times, trying to clear his mouth of the bile and acidic burn. Once clear he sits on the dorm steps, undoing his coat so the chill wind might sooth the roiling heat still unsettled within him.

Another wave of nausea hits. 

Yeah. He deserves this.

He puts his head in his hands and bends down so his head is between his knees. The wave passes and he can sit straight again… and g _od… Oh god… He_ **_assaulted_ ** _Hamilton._ The hell was he thinking!? He goes to spit once more in the brush.

Sure, their friendship, and even their less amicable rivalry, has its rocky patches. They’d never needed to apologize to each other before but… this? And oh… what would Madison and Jefferson say? Would it be worse if they found out he’d apologized to Hamilton, without knowing why?

After a few more minutes he collects himself, perhaps feeling more wrecked than when he’d been sick.

They left the door open for him so he doesn’t have to fumble with the lock. 

Jefferson is sitting on his bed. It seems his lip has finally stopped bleeding. He swipes his mouth with a finger to collect the wet shreds of tissue paper clinging to the inside of his cheeks.

“Someone has to do something about that bastard!” Maddison snarls, pacing the room.

“It was just a game,” Burr says. He is exhausted and really, really not in the mood for this. He goes to his dresser to grab toothpaste and a tooth brush.

Maddison splutters behind him as Burr retreats to the floor’s bathroom. He brushes his teeth far longer than is necessary, looking back at his sorry expression.  _It was just a game._ It’s a fine excuse for Jefferson and Hamilton trading blows, and Hamilton seemed ready to accept it and move on. But god…

He finishes brushing, spits into the sink, and rinses out his mouth.

Maddison will definitely have thought of something to say by now. All he wants to do is sleep and forget today ever happened. But he has no other way to try and put off the inevitable he returns.

Maddison just glares at him, which might be worse.

“You have another reason to hate Hamilton to add to your list. That’s it, alright?” Burr states. “Now, I’m going to sleep. You’re both of course welcome to stay up fuming, but I’m turning off the light.” And so he does.

—

Moments after Hamilton and Burr part ways, Laurens finds him. He’s on the porch leading off from the kitchen. It’s vacant, too dark and too chilly out to be comfortable.

But Laurens joins him on the bench. “You shouldn't have done that,” he starts.

Hamilton shrugs. “I know.”

“Did you apologize?”

“Not to Jefferson.”

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. How’s your head?”

“Going to bruise, I think.”

“Are you concussed?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Feel like you might throw up?”

“Only because I had to kiss Jefferson.”

Laurens knocks their shoulders together. “Haha. You sure you’re fine? You look a little spooked. They didn’t get to you, did they?”

Alexander turns away, lets out a long, shaky breath, “Burr,” he says simply.

“What did he do?” Laurens’ tone is suddenly dark.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Hamilton…” Laurens growls, then sighs, “Just… are you alright?”

“Yeah, he roughed me up a bit, it’s fine.”

“It’s not, Alexander… He’s… he’s suppose to be your friend. And it was-”

“-just a game?”

“What did he do?”

“Pushed me into a wall. Laurens… we’ll talk about it, okay?”

“Has he done this before?”

“No.”

“Hey… will you just, let me know if he does it again?”

“I will. But I mean, it wasn’t a big deal. Okay?”

“You’re not telling me all of it.” Laurens rests his hand against Hamilton’s cheek, his thumb caressing the side of Hamilton’s lip. It hurts, but he doesn’t flinch, realizing it must be bruised.

“This will all be less upsetting after a good night’s sleep,” Hamilton tells his friend.

Laurens leans in to kiss him. Hamilton settles into a better position to receive the gentle give and take.

“Are you sure?” Laurens asks after they’ve slowed in their movements.

Hamilton doesn’t answer, just pulls him back in. “Let’s go home, okay?”  


	3. Bumps, Bruises, and Hangovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, all things considered, Hamilton has a better morning than me.

Laurens is already awake at nine o’clock. Hamilton was doubtful when Laurens first claimed that “hell or high water I’ll always be up by eight and usually much, much earlier.” It seemed like a fiction. It wasn’t until after getting past the 'awkward strangers living together' stage and staying up till two talking did Hamilton believe him. The morning after Laurens had woken him up for his morning class, bright-eyed and already dressed despite not having to be up until noon.

Out of respect for his roommate Hamilton put in the effort to stop abusing his own circadian rhythm. He still wasn’t early to bed early to rise but he only came in past midnight on the weekends.

Hamilton groans as he wakes. His head throbs, his entire scalp feels tender and swollen. “Uuuugggghhhh. It turns out getting punched in the head negates the benefits of drinking responsibly,” he grouses.

“You can remember last night,” Laurens points out. He’s working at his desk all the way on the other side of the room - another unhappy detail.

Hamilton grumbles, “I said  _benefits,_ my dear Laurens. You know, the  _positives,_  the bright side _._ ”

This gets Laurens’ attention and he puts down his pen. “What do you mean?”

Hamilton huffs, trying to burrow back into his blankets.

So he hears, not sees, Laurens coming to sit on the edge of his bed. Once he feels the mattress dip, Hamilton frees his head from the blanket cocoon. Laurens takes this as an invitation to play with Hamilton’s hair, careful of his bruises.

Hamilton sighs and curves his body around Laurens’. He drifts into the gentle place between wakefulness and sleep. Laurens goes to move and Hamilton lunges for him, unsettling Laurens and almost falling off the bed himself. “Stay,” he says, petulant.

“Move over then.”

Hamilton makes space on the bed and Laurens lies down next to him, on top of the covers. He goes back to his gentle petting, his fingers trailing across Hamilton’s face and hair. It’s another half hour until Hamilton is ready to wake up for real. Laurens is still in his bed, spooning around Hamilton and reading something on his phone. He pushes back into his roommate and tries to get a view of the phone.

Morning news.

“You ready for breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

—

The morning is not significantly better than the night before. Burr’s whole body feels heavy. He lies in bed, awake, for an hour. Jefferson and Madison go about their mornings, assuming he’s still asleep. His hollowness is only reflected in the empty room once he’s left alone.

_He needs to talk to Hamilton._

But what if Hamilton doesn’t want to talk to him? What if Hamilton needs time? Just because… just because he needs to talk to Hamilton doesn’t mean he should force himself on the other man again…

He needs to talk to Hamilton, but he also needs to give Hamilton space.

Still without a plan he goes down to the dining hall for breakfast.

 


	4. Space and the Silent Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the rest of Hamilton's week is probablly worse than Burr's.
> 
> Well... maybe it's a tie. After all, Burr as no one to pet his hair, or even to talk to.

 “He’s avoiding me!” Hamilton thunders, throwing his bag across the room and onto his bed. It slides off the comforter and onto the floor. He paces the room, hands flying as he talks. “Not even so much as a ‘hello’ in Government, let alone our usual small talk before class. And he sat in the back. And as soon as class is over he’s out the door. He doesn’t even wave when we cross ways in the hall. The hell is he playing at?” Hamilton throws himself on his bed and almost falls on the floor with the momentum of his gusto.

Laurens chews the end of his pen, contemplating this. “You normally grab lunch together, right?”

“On Fridays,” Hamilton corrects him. “After the lecture.”

“He might just be hung over today, Ham. Maybe he just wants to be alone.”

Hamilton deflates. “It could be something  _I_  did,” he says doubtfully.

“It could be,” Laurens confirms. “But he could just need a little break from the extroverted storm that is A-dot-Ham. Don’t confront him about it today, okay?”

"Okay." Hamilton, calmed, comes over to their desk. He wraps his arms around Laurens, reading over his shoulder.

“What are you working on?”

“Translation for History. Do you have work to do?”

“Nope, finished it all over the weekend.”

“Of course you did.”

By his roommate’s increasingly dark mood, Laurens can tell Burr is still avoiding Hamilton. But Hamilton follows Laurens advice and puts off a confrontation about it until Friday.

“He didn’t show. Texted me though.” Laurens turns, startled as he hadn’t heard Hamilton’s usually boisterous entrance. 

Hamilton holds a phone out to him.

_Burr: Can’t make lunch this week._

_Hamilton: Okay, next week?_

The time stamp shows it was sent half an hour ago and is still without a reply. He puts Hamilton’s phone on his desk and draws his roommate into a tight hug. Hamilton clings onto him, and after a few moments, starts shaking.

Laurens pulls away so he can walk them over to one of their beds and sink down on to it. “Are you crying?” he asks, running his thumb under Hamilton’s shining eyes.

Hamilton buries his head into Laurens’ shoulder and holds on to the other man for dear life. Laurens, for his part, rubs Hamilton’s back.

“What did I do?” Hamilton asks, once his breathing has calmed. “I just- so we don’t always get along, we blow up at each other, we say things we don’t mean… But I don’t even know what I  _did_ . I just, John,  _he won’t talk to me._ I don’t even know  _why._ ”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, what he said to you, from the start?”

Hamilton just tries to huddle closer to Laurens. “Alex… You can tell me, you know that right? I’m here for you. Anything... I'm here for you.”

“He… kissed me.”

“Yeah?”

“And now he won’t talk to me!”

Laurens coaxes Hamilton away from his shoulder so he can cup Hamilton's face, run his hands through his friend’s hair and across his jaw. “From the beginning?” he asks, concerned about how tight-lipped his usually talkative friend is being.

Hamilton lets out a long breath. “After the game I went upstairs to get ice. Burr followed me. He trapped me against a wall. I yelled at him a bit, you know, tried to push him away.”

Laurens returns to rubbing Hamilton’s back when he rests his head on Laurens’ shoulder. “And that’s when he kissed me. I reciprocated. After a bit he let me go. I apologized for picking Jefferson instead of him and gave him a peck on the lips. I thought… that was okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurens whispers.

Hamilton sniffs, then nods.

“We’ll figure this out, okay. Do you want me to talk to him, since he’s not talking to you?”

Hamilton shrugs. “I… I mean, it doesn’t seem like it should be  _that_ big a deal.”

“But it is. Alright? Why don’t you text him. Tell him directly you want to talk so he can't keep tip toeing around it.”

“Then what?”

“Depends if he agrees to it.”

Hamilton gets up to get his phone. He resettles against Laurens side while he types. Laurens looks over Hamilton’s shoulder, seeing that Burr still hasn’t answered that last message.

_Hamilton: “Can we talk? It’s about the party.”_

_Burr: “Yes.”_ comes the immediate response.

_Hamilton: “Great, since your busy for lunch how about this weekend, breakfast at ten?”_

_Burr: “Okay, which dining hall?”_

_Hamilton: “Washington”_

_Burry: “See you then.”_

Once he’s done he tosses his phone to his bed side table and leans back against Laurens, who litters kisses across Hamilton’s face. 

“What did I do?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Laurens whispers. “But you’ll find out.”

Hamilton lets out a long, unhappy sigh. “Should I apologize to Jefferson?”

“Depends. If he’s extra hostile next time you see him, you should consider it. Maybe ask Burr?”

Done with talking, Hamilton repositions so he can kiss Laurens back. The dead feeling is still settled in the pit of his stomach. But he can ignore it while in his best friend’s lap, sharing in their gentle affection. 

 


	5. A Confrontation and Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr and Hamilton talk. Laurence and Hamilton talk. There are tears. Also kisses.

 “You’ve been avoiding me,” Hamilton accuses before he’s even dropped his tray down in front of Burr. It makes a loud clattering sound as it hits the table, drawing attention from the near by students.

Burr, bags under his eyes, picking at the cafeteria’s sad salad fixings, blinks up at Hamilton.

Hamilton takes his seat, and the legs of his chair screech against the floor as he drags it out from the table. “Just tell me what I did, alright?” 

“What you did?”

“Yes, what I did to piss you off so goddamn much you treat me like I’ve got the plague. The hell Burr!?” 

Burr glances down at his tray, and slowly starts shredding a napkin. “You didn’t do anything, Hamilton.”

Hamilton scoffs. He wants to scream. He wants to scream because if he screams he won’t cry. “Then  _why_.”

“I thought you’d want space after what I did.”

“ _What you did_?”

“ _Assaulted you.”_  Burr’s fingers still. “I’m sorry I did that.”

“Wait. Let me get this straight, you’ve been giving me the silent treatment because  _you_ feel guilty? And for what? _A stupid kiss?_ ”

“No, I just didn’t want to impose.”

“If I wanted to avoid you, I’d be the one avoiding you and passive-aggressively canceling our standing lunch date.”

A small, joyless smile flickers across Burr’s lips. “I suppose I should always trust you to make your feelings known.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Hamilton…” He takes a deep breath. “This isn’t just a game. I thought… I thought I’d really hurt you and I didn’t want to risk it, if my presence was going to continue that hurt. If you needed space I didn’t want you to have to... have to tell me so.”

“So instead you let me think I ruined our friendship and forced me to confront you just so I could know what the hell was going on and put an end to these mind games? Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

Burr runs his hands over his face. “I fucked up.”

“You did.”

“I’m sorry…” Burr shakes his head, at a loss for words.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry I… did  _that_ in the first place. And I’m sorry I avoided you. I didn’t know…”

Hamilton hums. Because of course he does. At least his anger as settled. “How’s Jefferson?”

“He’ll be over it once his lip heals.”

“And are we good?”

“I don’t know, are we, Hamilton?”

“We are.” He decides, nodding decisively.

They go on to have one of the most tense and awkward meals they’ve ever shared together. It’s worse than the time Burr admitted to not voting in the last presidential election.

“So how’d it go?” Laurens asks. He’s reclining on his bed reading from a history textbook when Hamilton comes in.

Instead of answering Hamilton throws himself across Laurens’ legs. Laurens just barely manages to set the book aside and keep its pages from being rumpled. 

Hamilton buries his face into Laurens’ side.

“That bad, huh?” He pets his friend’s hair, running a hand from the back of his head down his spine.

After a cuddle spell, Hamilton rolls over onto his back. “It didn’t fix everything.”

“No?”

“No. I mean, he’s not going to avoid me anymore but…”

“Things aren’t how they used to be?”

“Yeah.” Hamilton takes a deep breath. “Why am I like this?”

“Because Burr hurt you.”

“He didn-"

Laurens silences Hamilton with a look. “You’re like this because it matters. He matters to you. And that’s why things aren’t just going to go back to how they were.”

“But it’s not a big deal!”

“It’s not?”

“No, I mean, come on, it’s not like that was our first time.”

“It was the first time when you didn’t have the excuse of a game behind it.”

“We didn’t…”

“Hmm? Didn’t what?”

“Talk about the kiss.”

“Really?”

“I mean… we did a little. Burr just… he called it 'assault'.”

“Do you disagree with that assessment?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because…” Hamilton presses his lips together, and his brows knit.

“Did he ask you?”

“Ask me what?”

“If you wanted it?”

“No...”

“And he cornered you, shoved you against the wall?”

“Yes, but…”

They’re silent for a long moment.

“He apologized.”

“Yeah?”

“He apologized.”

“My boy, stop focusing on Burr for a second, okay?”

“Okay?”

“How do you feel?”

His eyes suddenly sting. “Confused… Sad… Lonely… Hurt.” His voice cracks on the last word.

Laurens returns to petting Hamilton’s hair.

“Burr thought I would want to avoid him…”

Laurens nods.

“But… I didn’t want him… I just…  _Why_?”

“Why what?”

Hamilton shakes his head, dislodging Lauren’s touch, “Just…  _Why?_ I don’t understand.”

“I know.” He pulls Hamilton against his chest, ruffling Hamilton's hair.

“Thanks…” Hamilton kisses him.

Laurens smiles. "You'll get through this." 


	6. All Nighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A. Ham and A. Burr both pull and all nighter and then meet up to watch the sunrise.

 

Weeks pass. Burr and Hamilton continue on with their Friday lunches and before-class small talk, even though there’s more distance between them than ever. And maybe it would be better if they weren’t talking, except sometimes it feels like everything’s normal, the way it’s supposed to be.

This is one of those times. The final paper is due tomorrow and miracle of miracles, Hamilton has to pull an all-nighter to get it done.

Burr teases him about it over text while he writes out his closing statement. It’s five or so in the morning and he’s almost done.

 

Burr: The sun’s going to start rising in a bit.

Hamilton: Thanks for the reminder.

 

He finishes up the paper, editing the last paragraph for spelling and grammar. His phone buzzes but he polishes up the paper and emails it to his professor before checking it.

Burr: Do you want to watch it?

Burr: The sun rise.

He smiles. _You’ll get through this_ John had said. Of course they will.

Hamilton: Sure, Moment of Peace Espresso Bar?

Burr: Meet you there.

The little bubbles indicating the Burr is typing pop up then disappear a couple more times before they stay gone.

Hamilton packs.

“Where're you going?” Laurens asks. He’s still huddled under his covers, eyes closed, breathing even.

“To get a coffee and watch the sunrise.” 

“That sounds nice.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Hmm.” His roommate shifts before settling down.

 

The morning is crisp but not so cold as to need a coat, even with the wind. All in all, it’s beautiful weather. Most of the lights in the dorm rooms are out, giving dawn a completely different atmosphere than dusk.

Burr’s sitting outside the coffee shop. He waves to Hamilton’s approach.

“Morning. I already have your order.” He gestures to the empty seat where there is, indeed, a large coffee.

“Thanks.” He settles into the seat, sipping at the hot drink. “You ready for class in a few hours?”

Burr smiles at him. “Course not, you?”

Hamilton makes a victory face that causes Burr to laugh.

“You’re ready for anything, aren’t you?”

“Always.”

And then there’s that pause and Burr’s not looking at him. And he’s not looking at the sky either. The cold creeps in and it was never like this before. Hamilton takes a long sip from his coffee.

“Why the sudden melancholy?” He finally asks.

Burr glances to him, shrugs one shoulder.

At least he has the decency not to lie.

 


	7. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr and Hamilton about feelings like two grown men who are not emotionally stunted or strangled by their own machismo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out my art history final was nothing to laugh at which is were the promised Monday update went.  
> Also I should be cleaning my room but uh... I wrote fic instead.

He meets Laurens for breakfast once the cafeterias open at seven thirty.

“You look like shit.” Laurens says it with warmth and affection.

Hamilton makes a face at him. Because, as ever, Laurens is bright eyed, dressed in jeans and a button up. “How are you real? _Morning people._ ” But he wraps his arms around his friend in a tight hug. They don’t normally kiss in public but Hamilton is suddenly compelled to. It’s the early hour, the way the sky is still beautiful, and the sudden pang of some emotion he's too fucking exhausted to sort out right now.

He pulls back. Brushing his fingers across Laurens’ cheek he looks his friend in the eyes and says, “ _Hey”._ The word is barely more than a whisper, but even to his own ears it’s filled with all the love and affection he doesn’t have words for.

And that’s all it takes for Laurens to lean in and capture his lips. He pulls Hamilton closer. The sudden warmth is too intense, too much. He’s crying.

“God, fuck.” He says.

Laurens wipe’s Hamilton’s cheeks. When the tears don’t let up Laurens kisses Hamilton’s forehead and starts to sway, rocking them back and forth. “Shh. You’re okay. I’ve got you, I’m here for you. This is okay. You’re going to be okay.” 

It doesn’t take long for Hamilton to calm. He chuffs and nuzzles Laurens’ chest before stepping back. 

“Let’s get breakfast.” Laurens says.

Hamilton just nods and trails behind his friend.

They normally part ways before reconvening to find a table but this time Hamilton shadows Laurens. Laurens fills a tray for them both.

Once they’re settled at a table, one of the booths, Hamilton still pressed against Laurens’ side, conversation resumes.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

Hamilton sighs, “I don’t even really know.”

“It’s okay, you know, if it’s just stress because of finals. But… I’m worried about you.”

“Hmm?”

“Could it have been something Burr did.”

“Things with him were really good.” Hamilton says, sounding sad about it, “But he’s still all weird and distant. We were so close, you know? I haven’t felt close to him in ages.”

“After your last class we are going to build a pillow fort on our floor and play video games on my lap top.” Laurens declares. “There might even be hot chocolate. And after that you and Burr are going to talk to each other about your feelings.”

Hamilton makes a face.

Laurens gives him a stern look, “So do you want to sort yourself out about it now or during pillow fort time?” 

“Now.” Hamilton says.

“Do you want to date Burr?”

“Hamilton?”

“Now that you mention it.”

Laurens snorts. “You dork. Don’t go all still like that again, I’ll think you’ve died.”

“Alright,” Laurens continues, “So you’re going to tell Burr that you would like to date him, that you wouldn’t mind being friends, but regardless you want to know what’s going on with him that’s causing him to act so weird and distant. Okay?”

“Well when you put it that way…”

“It sounds like a good idea, right?”

“It does.”

“Good. Now take out your phone.”

—

Hamilton: So Laurens threatened to smash our heads together if we don’t sit down and talk about our feelings.

Hamilton: I’m leaving it to you to pick the time and place.

Burr: Are you awake by eight?

Hamilton: I can be.

Burr: Eight at the coffee place. Day after tomorrow.

Hamilton: Got it.

—

“So. Feelings.” Is how Burr greets Hamilton.

It’s a reverse of their sun rise meeting. Hamilton was fifteen minutes early and bought Burr’s drink.

Burr pulls out the seat next to him.

“I don’t know… specifically what you’ve been doing lately that has gotten under my skin, but something’s changed. I really, _really_ enjoyed our friendship. And now I feel like you’re walking on egg shells around me. I don’t understand it. We’ve never been through something like this and I just want it to be over. I want to feel like I’m close to you again.”

Burr bites his lip, running his fingers up and down the warm cup. After a minute of thinking he lets out a long sigh, “I’m really sorry… I just… I know I should be over it, but I’ve shaken myself. I didn’t know… what I did,” he looks directly at Hamilton, “it wasn’t something I thought I was capable of. It went against everything I believe about relationships and respect. And I don’t know how to make it right. I don’t know how _not_ to feel like I’m walking on egg shells around you. Because when I look at you, I’m reminded that that _was_ something I was capable of.”

“I don’t understand my own actions.” He says, taking a sip of his drink, “I don’t want what I did to come between us but… I don’t know how to just act like it never happened. When I feel the way I do about it, it’s hard to understand that… you’re not so affected.”

Hamilton nods. It’s calm. Like they haven’t been in ages. He enjoys the moment, collecting his own thoughts. “We both know words are important.”

Burr smiles and nods.

“But…” Hamilton continues, “You don’t always need them. I don’t believe, not for a second, that if I hadn’t been receptive, you would have…”

“...Kept going?”

“Yeah.”

Burr sighs, “That’s the thing though. You can’t _know_ that. _I_ don’t even know what I’m capable of anymore.”

“Burr, you had my consent. Please… it’s important that you acknowledge that.”

They both look at each other and hold eye contact. There’s no challenge in it, not like there usually is in their stares.

Burr looks away first, nodding. He fidgets with his coffee cup.

Hamilton reaches out to him, rests his hand palm up on the table between them in invitation.

Burr stops his fidgeting and stares at it. After a moment he takes it, and interlaces their fingers.

“Our relationship means a lot to me, you know that, right?” Hamilton says.

Burr nods, “I feel the same way.”

Hamilton takes a deep breath, Burr squeezes his hand in reassurance, “I…”

Burr gives him a concerned look when Hamilton does not go on.

_Because it matters._

He takes another deep breath, “If you are agreeable I’d like it if… that relationship was no longer confined to friendship.”

“Are you asking me out?” Burr says, amused. “I am agreeable, but you stated that like an argument in Rhetoric.”

Hamilton grins at Burr. All he can do is chuckle, breathless. "I'm asking you out."

"I've um..." Burr says, them laughs a little at himself, "I've never... dated... a guy before." He admits.

Hamilton nods, "No wonder you were so shaken up then."

Burr just smiles.


	8. A(nother) Confrontation and Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr tells Madison and Jefferson that he's dating Hamilton. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice long chapter for you all!

“How about we don’t talk about Hamilton?” Burr grouses, texting the man in question while Madison and Jefferson bicker.

Burr:What did you do this time?

Hamilton:????

Burr: Madison and Jefferson are pissed at you.

Hamilton: Oh, that could be a couple of things.

“Oh, I forgot.” Jefferson lies, “You’re his _friend,_ aren’t you?” He sounds disgusted, accusatory.

Hamilton:   Would you like an itemized list?

Burr:           No thanks, I'm good.  


Burr pulls up an article he needs to read for one of his class. “Boyfriend, actually.” He mutters, starting his first skim through. It’s blissfully silent for the five minutes it takes for him to reach the end.

When Burr looks up Jefferson is scowling and Madison looks like he might be sick.

“You’re dating _him!?_ Hamilton. The man we-” Jefferson gestures between himself and Madison, almost smacking Madison in the chest, “ _despise_.”

“I am.”

“For how long?” Madison pipes up.

“A few weeks now.”

“ ** _Why?_** ” Jefferson bellows.

“Because I like the guy.”

Jefferson mock gags.

“So, how about we just don’t talk about Hamilton from now on.”

“You’re _defending_ him.” Madison accuses.

“You can’t be serious? All I ask is that we stop talking about him.”

“You’re defending him.” Jefferson affirms, “You were on his side when he bit my lip.”

“I was not.” Burr’s finding it hard to keep his cool. Of course he knew this would happen but… He swallows, willing the knot in his gut to go away. It just gets tighter under the strength of Madison’s and Jefferson’s combined glare.

“Did he seduce you?”

“Don’t you at least have standards?”

“He’s got you in his pocket.”

“You’re tied around that little whoreson’s finger.”

“ _Disgusting._ ”

At this last pronouncement Burr is standing, breathing heavily, without ever having meant to rise. There’s a roaring in his ears.

Madison looks at him with fear, Jefferson with anger flashing in his eyes.

He clenches and unclenches his fists, willing himself to be calm. It would not do to have a scene. Not here, not now, not ever. He lets out a long breath, then collects his tray. “I think this conversation as run it’s corse.” He says, voice just barely on this side of cordial. “I have other matters to attend to, but I’ll see you both later.”

They're words he’s spoken hundreds of times before, they roll of his tongue with ease. He nods to the pair and goes to empty his half eaten food into the trash before exiting the cafeteria.

The night air is cold on his face. It allows him to collect the last of his shattered calm. While he walks into the night he turns his cellphone over and over in his hands, unsure who, if anyone, he wants to talk to.

But after a moment he comes to a decision and fumbles to dial the number. The phone rings and rings. The knot in his gut as been replaced with nothingness, and in someways this is worse.

“Burr?”

He lets out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, “Yeah um… can… we talk? Is now a good time.”

“I um… sure. It is me you want to talk to, right? Not Hamilton?”

“I called you, Laurens, didn’t I?”

“You did. Just let me…” And Burr can hear him talking indistinctly to someone else, then the opening and closing of a door.

“This was a bad time, I’m sorry, I’ll just-”

“No, now is absolutely fine. I just wanted to move to someplace I wouldn’t be over heard.”

“You were with Hamilton.”

“Yeah, but really, it’s fine. Just, what did you need?”

“I um… You know Hamilton and I are dating, right?”

“Yup.”

“So… I told Jefferson and Madison.”

Laurens hums on the other side, letting Burr know he’s listening.

“They… didn’t take it well. I mean… I’ve… always tried to ignore it when they speak badly of Hamilton, and in the past I’ve asked them to you know… talk about something else. Beating a dead horse and all that.”

“But it just… They’re my friends. They said… they said it was disgusting.”

“Have you ever come out before?” Laurens asks.

Burr takes another deep breath, “No… My parents died before I could. And then I just… didn’t really date. I mean, in general but… Yeah.”

“I’m really sorry they said that to you, Burr. And I’m glad you told me.”

“Thanks, Laurens. It’s um… I needed to hear that.”

“I know dating Hamilton puts you in a really horrible position with your friends and that really sucks.”

“Jefferson never understood how I was friends with him.”

“Are you guys going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” He takes a deep breath, “At the least it’s going to fuck things up for a long time. Jefferson… well… He’s going to be vicious.”

Laurens makes a sympathetic sound.

“I know it was um… weird to call. I mean…”

“Not at all.” Laurens assures him, “You know I’m here for Hamilton, so it makes perfect sense to assume that I’d be here for you about this. And I’m not really involved in this bullshit rivalry so I’m not going to upset you any further by being on the wrong side of this thing.”

“But I mean…” Burr chuckles, “We don’t really know each other.”

“Of course we do! Burr! Our friend groups hang out literally all the time, even though half of them are always at each other’s throats.”

“Yeah I just um…” He rubs his eyes.

“There are a lot of people I would call my friends, but they wouldn’t say the same about me.” Laurens admits. “They look at my relationship with Hamilton and assume that if I’m not just as close with them then we’re just _acquaintances_. Burr, you know Hamilton and I… we’ve got something really special. It doesn’t compare to anything else.”

Laurens’ sigh crackles over the line,“Just because you and I don’t share the same rapport doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, alright?”

 “Thanks, Laurens. You’re um… you’re a really… great friend.”

“You’re welcome Burr. I hope things get better with Jefferson and Madison soon.”

“Yeah… I still have to share a room with them.” He sighs.

“Bye?”

“Bye.”

Burr hangs up. He’s not ready to go back to the dorms, to face Jefferson and Madison, so he walks for a while.

Hamilton: Laurens didn’t tell me what your call to him was about.

Hamilton: But I want to let you know that I’m here for you.

Burr: Laurens is a gift.

Burr: I told Madison and Jefferson about us. They reacted badly. It was upsetting.

Hamilton: Oh…

Hamilton: Yep. I don’t know what to say.

Hamilton: Jefferson and Madison are assholes, but they’re also your friends and your roommates.

Hamilton: So.

Burr: Yeah.

Hamilton: I mean… is there anything I can do to help?

Burr: Actually… Can I spend the night at your place? I really don’t want to go back and face them tonight. And it’s getting late.

There’s a second before Hamilton responds, probably he’s asking Laurens if that would be alright.

Hamilton:   Sure. 

Hamilton: We have an air mattress. But you could also sleep in my bed, which ever you’re comfortable with.

He has to think this over and in the end types out.

Burr: Air mattress, if you don’t mind.

Hamilton: Great, I’ll set it up.

 

Laurens is the one to greet him in the lobby of their dorm building. “Hamilton is still struggling with the mattress. I’ll get you signed in.”

Laurens passes over his guest card to security and Burr gives them his student ID. It seems like the whole thing should be awkward, especially waiting for an elevator. 

It’s not. They make small talk.

“You want to watch a movie, play some games?”

“Uh.”

“Going straight to sleep is fine too. Hamilton likes to stay up late writing, just to warn you.”

“Of course he does. It’s um… I’d like to just crash. It’s been a long day.”

“Can I hug you, by the way?” Laurens asks.

Burr holds out his arms in silent consent.Laurens is a good hugger. He leans into it without being over bearing and he wraps Burr solidly into the embrace without his grip being overwhelming. Burr's not a hugger, but that doesn't seem to matter when holding on to Laurens. When Burr’s ready for it to end he pats Laurens on the back and is immediately released.

Burr nods, “You’re a good friend.” He says again.

Laurens smiles. 

The rest of the night passes peacefully. If he had the time to worry he’d be concerned that being in Hamilton’s and Laurens dorm would be a constant reminder why he wasn’t in his own. He would have thought having Hamilton by his side would make it worse.

It doesn’t. Sure, once and a while the thought crosses his mind, the memory of Jefferson’s face when he spat _disgusting._ But mostly? Mostly he’s soothed by Hamilton’s affection. His boyfriend is quiet.And maybe at another time he’d have joked it was a minor miracle. But Hamilton’s soft and sweet and gentle in a way they haven’t had the chance to be with each other yet.


	9. Textual Harassment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton, Laurens, and Lafayette help Burr pick up his stuff from his dorm room.
> 
> Warning for sexism, homophobia, and sexual harassment. (All from Jefferson.)

He wakes from a dreamless sleep. He wakes feeling boneless. He wakes feeling hollow.

Burr lies on the air mattress, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts, distant wordless things, echo inside him. The time he lies their is an infinity, even as the shadows shift in the room.

Laurens breaks the trance, opening the door, slowly, silently. He spots Burr and notices he's awake.

“Good morning.” He mouths. He returns his shower things to the wardrobe before coming to sit on the floor by Burr. “How are you?” He whispers.

Burr shrugs, and makes a small noise.

“Let’s get breakfast, shall we? Hamilton won’t be up until the afternoon.”

The words unstuck him. He takes Lauren’s offered hand and hauls himself to his feet. He’s still in his clothes from the night before so he just puts on his shoes and they head straight down to the dinning hall. 

Laurens is a steady presence at his side. Still, he’s not hungry and only picks at his food.

Laurens doesn’t say anything like _Give it time_ or _It’s going to get better._ Burr’s grateful for that, for the silence. What he does say, when they bus their table is, “You’re going to make it through this.”

“It might never be the same again, but you’re going to make it through this.” 

“I don’t know what to do.” Burr admits.

“There might not be anything you _can_ do. But I'm here for you. Hamilton's here for you. And you're going to make it through this.”

They hug again. It's not perfect. It might never be.

 

Jefferson: Traitor.

 

The three of them go for a walk around campus once Hamilton is up. It’s mostly deserted - the students have been slowly clearing out now that the fall semester is over.

“We do this every time.” Laurens tells him.

“It’s like saying good bye.” Hamilton adds, “To this place and being together, freely. Laurens goes back to South Carolina over break and he's not really able to keep in contact.”

Burr squeezes Hamilton's hand, “Where do you go?”

Hamilton shrugs, “To a friends house.”

Burr normally spends the break with Madison’s or Jefferson’s family, trying to avoid renting in the city if he doesn’t have to. It's been his plan ever since freshman year. Obviously though... He's going to need to figure something else out. 

“What will you do, over break?” Laurens asks him.

Burr sighs, then shrugs.

“I was going to stay with Mulligan.” Hamilton tells him, “Should I see if he as space for you?”

Burr nods, his eyes suddenly burning.

 

Jefferson: Dirty cock sucker.

 

“I’ll need to pick my stuff up.” Burr announces as they walk by his dorm building.

Laurens and Hamilton stop to look as well.

“We can go with you.”

“Hamilton being there will just make it worse.”

“And me?” Laurens asks.

“… I don’t know. Maybe... Maybe I’ll ask Lafayette to help too? I mean…”

“He’d love to help, trust me.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Hamilton declares.

 

Burr: Madison, I need to pick up my stuff.

Burr: When would be the most convenient time for me to do that?

Burr: Madison?

Hmm.

 

“Hey Lafayette!”

“Good afternoon!”

“Salut! What are you all doing here?” Lafayette kisses Hamilton and Lauren’s cheeks in turn, “Burr?”

“Uh, hello."

There's an awkward silence before Burr adds, "I um… need your help.”

Lafayette nods.

“Um… Moving out of my dorm.” Burr takes a deep breath, “I uh… am going through a rough patch with… Madison and Jefferson. And um… I’m thinking… they won’t hassle me… as much… if you’re there. Since you’re Jefferson’s friend too… and all.”

“Of course, let me grab my coat.”

 

Jefferson: I can’t believe Hamilton’s fucked you.

 

“I already have most of my stuff packed up.” Burr explains. “It will only take a few minutes for me to get the rest. Between you me and Laurens it should only take one trip.”

Lafayette nods, “Ami, where will you be spending break now?” His voice is full of kindness and concern.

“Um, Mulligan’s, probably.”

“That's good.”

 

Jefferson: Faggot

 

“So the plan’s just to get in, get the stuff, and go.” Burr says. He takes a deep breath, putting his key in the lock, hoping it’s just going to be Madison in the dorm. Or preferably no one at all, but he’s never that lucky.

Lafayette stands at his side, Laurens just behind him.

He lets them all in.

Jefferson is sitting at his desk, Madison lounging on his bed. They both turn to look when the door opens.

There’s a tense moment where no one speaks. Broken when Lafayette says, “Bonjour, Jefferson.”

“Good afternoon, Lafayette.”

Burr walks through the dorm room like he might walk across a battle field. He pulls the trunk out from under his bed and passes it off to Laurens.

“And what are you doing here?” Madison interjects, glaring at Laurens.

“It’s my room.” Burr states, as if the accusation had been directed at him. In a way it was.

“I thought we said in our room mate agreement we wouldn’t bring friends over unexpectedly.”

“I tried to text a head, it’s not my fault if you didn’t check your phone.”

“We’re just helping Burr move out.” Laurens says.

This doesn’t placate Madison.

Burr pulls a suit case from under his bed next. It’s a good excuse not to look at his roommates but it also makes him feel incredibly vulnerable.When he straightens up he finds Lafayette at his side, a physical presence between him and his roommates.

Finally he grabs his back pack and fills it with the little odds and ends that had been left around the room for convenience. His spare phone charger, tooth brush and tooth paste, his journal, some clothes, and so on.

“Have a good break.” He says as he pulls the back pack straps over his shoulders.

“And where are you going?” Jefferson asks.

Burr shrugs, heading out of his room. He doesn’t look back and to take in the sight. It might be the last time he sees that room, his home for the last four months, but he doesn’t want to linger. Tears prick at his eyes.

Lafayette and Laurens fallow behind him.

 

His phone doesn’t buzz with a text.

 

“I think that was one of the most uncomfortable encounters of my life.” Lafayette declares.

Laurens nods.

Hamilton is waiting out front and helps Laurens carry the trunk. “What happened?” He asks.

No one answers him.

 

Still no texts.

 

They bring Burr’s stuff back to Hamilton and Laurens’ dorm while making plans for the up coming weeks.

Burr’s silent through most of it as his phone keeps buzzing.

 

Jefferson: Do you love him?

Jefferson: Like actually care about him, love him?

Jefferson: Honestly?

Jefferson: Because I can’t believe it.

Jefferson: You and that mouthy whoreson. 

Jefferson: But if it was just that mouth you were after you wouldn’t be dating him.

Jefferson: I’m sure he’d have no problem being a casual fuck toy.

Jefferson: I mean, with Laurens in the picture that’s basically what you are anyway.

Jefferson: You’re that whore’s side piece.

 

Back at their dorm they have a movie night. Laurens and Hamilton pull their mattresses to the floor and distribute pillows and blankets while arguing over what to watch.

“Lions for Lambs. Lions for Lambs.” Hamilton chants. "Lions for Lambs."

Laurens grumbles, “That’s so… god damn _intellectual_ , can’t we watch something with a little less… substance?”

Hamilton looks scandalized.

Lafayette laughs at him.

“Light hearted then, you can pick something deep so long as it’s light hearted.”

“Dr. Strangelove?”

“It’s a comedy!” Hamilton defends as his friends stare at him. “Or I mean… there are funny parts.”

“Is that even on Netflix?”

Laurens looks it up, “Nope.”

“Star Trek?”

Burr lets the debate wash over him. He huddles up in his share of the blankets and closes his eyes.

The Next Generation theme music starts up and everyone else settles to crowd around Laurens' lap top. Burr falls asleep before the opening narration starts.


	10. Forgiveness. Maybe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last chapter. I've been playing with it a lot so far, trying to add something else but nothings been coming.

The next day passes in a blur and is just as draining as the last. Lafayette had already departed late the night before. Laurens leaves early that morning for his flight. Which just leaves Hamilton and Burr and their half formed plan to stay at Mulligan’s. Some how it all works out and the end of the day sees them cramped into a small guest bedroom.

Hamilton is ready to argue about sleeping their arrangements, insisting he take the air mattress. Burr just sits on the edge of the bed and opens his arms in a soundless plea, keeping the silence between them blessedly intact.

Burr would have never guessed that Hamilton could be so gentle, adoring, and affection. He settles delicately into Burr’s arms and rubs soothing circles into his boyfriend’s back.

After a time Burr leans back, pulling Hamilton with him. It’s the first time they’ve really touched since the falling out with Madison and Jefferson. Burr had been wary of any contact, he felt too fragile for it. And he was sure that the other man would overwhelm him with his energetic and confrontational spirit. But Hamilton is anything but confrontational now and he seems just as worn out as Burr.

They lie tangled up in each other until it’s Burr who breaks the silence. “Jefferson’s been texting me.” He says. The admission weighs on him, but the secret had been heavier.

Hamilton makes an inquiring noise.

“He’s um… He’s been harassing me, actually. I… haven’t been responding but…” He sighs, a long forceful breath through his nose.

Hamilton picks his head up from where he’d been nestled against Burr’s chest. There’s a mix of anger and sympathy in his eyes.

“You’re so righteous.” Burr tells him, distracted.

“You’re suppose to be _friends_.” Hamilton says.

“Friends can hurt each other the worst.” He picks up on of Hamilton’s hands and absently fiddles with the fingers. “Even on accident.”

Hamilton laces their fingers together. “I know.” He says.

“I’m sorry.” Burr whispers, turning his face away.

“It all worked out, didn’t it?” He climbs up the bed aways. He could kiss Burr now, if he wanted to, if Burr wanted to be kissed.

There’s a long silence between them.

“Yeah, it did.” Burr leans up to close the space between them. The kiss is like the eye of a storm. It’s a gentle press of lips but it sets Burr’s nerves alight like the rumbling of thunder in the distance. He’s trembling, a little, from the effort of holding his head up.

When he falls back Hamilton fallows him.

-

Burr: So have you calmed down then?

Jefferson doesn’t respond, then again, Burr didn’t expect him too.

-

Madison: Merry Christmas.

Burr: Merry Christmas.

-

Madison: Jefferson is starting to move on from the you dating Hamilton thing.

Burr: How about the me liking men thing.

Madison: I don’t think he was ever upset about that.

Burr: Sure.

Burr: /Sarcasm.

Madison: ?

Burr: He called me a ‘faggot’.

Burr: I can not think of a worse reaction when your friend comes out.

Madison: You didn’t come out.

Burr: I didn’t?

Madison: Whatever, we don’t care.

Burr: Really? Because it sure seems like Jefferson cares a lot.

Madison: One sec, let me ask him.

Madison: Yeah, he says he doesn’t care if your gay or whatever.

Burr: Bi.

Madison: Yeah, neither of us care if you’re bisexual.

Burr: Well you two have a great way of showing it.

Madison: It’s Hamilton, Burr.

Madison: How come you don’t get that?

Burr: How was I suppose to know it was just Hamilton?

Burr: I’d never actually come out to anyone before.

Burr: Did either of you ever realize that?

Burr: Or like, stop for one second to consider?

Madison: Shit.

Madison: No.

Madison: Sorry.

Burr: Yeah.

-

Jefferson: So how’s your break?

Burr: Fine.

Jefferson: That’s good.

…

Jefferson: My parents have been asking after you.

Burr: What did you tell them?

Jefferson: That you’ve been well, top of your classes.

Jefferson: And that you were spending the holidays with a new friend of yours.

Jefferson: And that you were sorry you couldn’t make it for Christmas dinner.

Burr: That’s good.

Burr: You have a nice family.

-

Jefferson: Madison says I need to say it to you directly.

Jefferson: I don’t care if your gay.

Burr: Bi.

Jefferson: Bi.

Burr: But you care a lot that your dating Hamilton.

Jefferson: Yes.

Jefferson: I care a lot that your dating that loud mouth, bastard, whore-son.

-

Jefferson: I’m sorry.

-

Burr and Hamilton share a kiss at midnight. There’s a long road ahead of him. But it’s starting to look like the New Year might actually be a good one after all.


	11. Bonus Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry things are coming a long so slowly, I started school again and it's kicking my ass big time. I've also entered a sort of dormant period where writing just isn't happening. I'm still working through it, and I'll definitely finish this work, it's just going to take a while until things get better.
> 
> So I do have two chapter drafts that didn't make it in where I intended them to be but were so good I still wanted to share them.

**This one is how I originally planned to introduce the queer platonic nature of Laurens' and Hamilton's relationship. The ending of the story was going to be a lot earlier, with none of the Jefferson and Madison drama of the last chapter. It was going to end with Hamilton and Burr getting together, talking about there feelings, and then this clarification of the Lams relationship.**

Laurens enjoys the a rare moment to himself, finished with school work and other obligations. He sketches out the emotional support chinchilla he’s borrowing from someone three floors up.

The moment of peace comes to and end when Hamilton bounds into the room, beaming.

“So how are things with Burr?” Laurens asks, setting his sketchbook aside as his roommate joins him on the bed.

He pulls Laurens into a happy kiss. They tussle till the edge of Hamilton’s wild energy is soothed. He smells like someone else’s cologne, and, faintly, of sex.

“That well, huh?” Laurens says.

Hamilton beams at him as the trade tender, chaste kisses.

“Are you jealous?” Hamilton asks.

Laurens tires to put some heat behind his lips and Hamilton complies immediately to the change. It only lets for a minute before they both burst out laughing.

Hamilton cuddles against Laurens again as his roommate returns to sketching.

He got things settled with Burr. And, sure, they’re never going to go back to how they were before. But now, Hamilton doesn’t want to.

 

 

**This one is how it could have gone when Burr and Hamilton got together. It just wasn't working in terms of moving the story along so I switched it out. I also just wasn't in the mood to write smut, which is where it looked like this was going.**

Jefferson: Where are you?

Burr: With Hamilton.

Jefferson: Why??

Burr: Why not?

Jefferson: Because we hate him.

Burr: You mean you hate him. You and Madison.

Burr: Not me. I don’t hate him.

Burr: Hamilton and I are actually friends, I know you keep forgetting that.

Jefferson: Yes, but why?

Burr: Did you have a reason for texting me?

Jefferson: Oh yeah, I did.

Jefferson: But I forgot.

Jefferson: Because, yes, it really does shock and disgust me to know that you and Hamilton are friends.

Jefferson: I mean how’d that even happen?

Jefferson: But anyway, give me a minute and I’ll remember.

Jefferson: Oh, yeah, Madison was wondering if you could pick up his final paper from the government prof since he won’t be able to today.

Burr: He’s sick again?

Jefferson: You guessed it.

Burr: Can’t you do it?

Jefferson: You’re already out.

Burr: Yes, but I’m busy.

Jefferson: With Hamilton?

Burr: Yes. That’s how friendship works. Go get Madison’s paper for him.

Jefferson: Ugh, fine.

Burr: Also, does this mean that I won’t have our room to myself today?

Jefferson: It does.

Jefferson: Why?

Burr: No reason, I’ll just swing by to pick up a book later. I don’t want to have to listen to Madison’s sniffling while I try to concentrate.

Jefferson: ????

Jefferson: The semester is over, you know that, right.

Burr: There are books that aren’t text books.

Burr: You know that, right?

Burr silences his phone and shoves it back into his pocket.

“What was that about?” Hamilton asks. They’re in the student union, lounging in one of the sitting area’s, small and out of the way. It’s deserted. They sit on opposite ends of one of the small sofa’s, their legs tangled together.

“Jefferson asked me if I could pick of Madison’s paper since Madison is sick and can’t do it himself. I told him I was busy.” He places a hand on Hamilton’s knee. “Where were we?”

“We _were_ talking about ‘Lions for Lambs’.” Hamilton sits up and scoots closer to Burr. “But I’m ready for a change in topic.” And he places a delicate kiss on the corner of Burr’s cheek.

“Smooth.” Burr tells him. They resettle, Hamilton in Burr’s lap.

Touching Hamilton like this is… It’s like a prairie in a lightening storm. It’s like the way a letter curls and blackens when introduced to a flame. Things quickly become heated, especally now that there’s no one kiss limit, no competitive flare, and no need to make what they’re doing look attractive, none of the Schuyler sisters are here to watch them.

“Let’s say.” Burr says, stopping Hamilton’s wrists from exploring further up his chest. “We take this some where more private.” He check to see if they’re still alone, then gives a long, meaningful glance at the security camera surveying them.

“Your place or mine.”

“Yours. Madison’s sick, I can’t kick him out of our room.”

Hamilton sits back to pull his phone out of his back pocket. He cringes.

Laurens: So how’d it go?

Laurens: Hamilton?

Laurens: I would _like_ to assume that because your meeting should be over and you are not responding to my texts things went well.

Laurens: But I know Burr, or, I know Burr’s friend. Jefferson and Madison are out for blood.

Laurens: Your blood.

Laurens: Please text me and tell me you are alive and have not been kidnaped.

Laurens: Hamilton.

Laurens: Alexander Hamilton.

Laurens: So help me, Hamilton, if I don’t hear back from you in another hour I’m going to campus security.

The last message was only sent a few minutes ago.

He types out a message, and to Burr says, “Laurens thinks you kidnapped me.”

“He does know we’re friends, right?”

“Oh, trust me, he knows.”

Hamilton: I’m fine!

Hamilton: I didn’t get punched in the face

Hamilton: or ribs.

Hamilton: again.

Hamilton: I am not at student health or the ER.

Hamilton: Madison and Jefferson have not kidnapped me.

Hamilton: Sorry to worry you.

Hamilton: I am good.

Hamilton: Things are good.

Laurens: Thank god, you ass.

Hamilton: Were you really worried?

Laurens: Yes!

Laurens: Almost bleed out in an ally one time and your friends tend to worry about you.

Laurens: That’s how friendship works.

Laurens: And, Hamilton, it’s been five hours.

Hamilton: I’m really, really sorry.

Hamilton: And that was one time! Stop bringing it up!

Laurens: It happened _twice_.

Laurens: That I know of.

Hamilton: Okay, but I only nearly bled out that one time.

Burr has kept busy while Hamilton texts, running his hands up and down Hamilton’s sides. Normally he can handle doing two things at once but when Burr’s hands make there way down and back his concentration is absolutely shattered.

He does his best trying to keep texting with Laurens.

Hamilton: …

Hamilton: So…

Hamilton: What are you doing?

Laurens: And other than worrying myself sick about what trouble my best friend in the world got himself into

Laurens: I’m sketching.

Hamilton: I’m really, really sorry.

Hamilton: Um…

Hamilton: Can I ask you a favor?

Laurens: I’m not feeling very favorable at the moment.

Hamilton: I know! I’m sorry!

Laurens: But I’ll hear you out.

Hamilton: I’ll owe you.

Hamilton: I’ll owe you big time.

Hamilton: Go sketch somewhere else for the next two hours, please?

Laurens: So I take it things went well.

Hamilton: VERY.

Hamilton: EXTREAMLY.

Burr hauls Hamilton up and resettles them into a more comfortable position. The new angel gives him room to nip at Hamilton’s ear while he texts with Laurens.

Hamilton: Do I have your cooperation?

Laurens: Yes, I’ll clear out.

Laurens: Have fun, stay safe.

Laurens: Air out the room when you’re done.

Hamilton: Yes mom.

“Okay.” Hamilton says, putting his phone away, “Let’s go.”

 

 

 **That's what I have for you. Happy new year. I'll try to get back to a once a week update. I do have a draft of the next chapter, so. And also, thanks to**[IndecisiveHannahK](http://archiveofourown.org/users/IndecisiveHannahK/pseuds/IndecisiveHannahK)  **for the wonderfully kind words. I was tempted to just forget about this story and disappear for a while but those comments persuaded me not to.**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and conceit welcome! I really want to improve as a writer and every comment helps sooth the anxiety I feel about putting my work out into the world.
> 
> Also Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


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